The Jesus of Suburbia, Chapter 1: The American Idiots
by SaintDevin
Summary: Hey guys! I'm here to bring to you my first ever public story, entitled the Jesus of Suburbia, based off a few Green Day songs!


**The Jesus of Suburbia**

**By Devin Rogers**

**Prologue**

Dear Diary,

My name is Christian, welcome to my inferno. I am 15 years old and I am living at home with my family, a stupid one. Everyone that inhabits this house is an idiot. Brad, my stepdad, is too caught up in his political mumbo jumbo and his anger drives me insane. My mom is to loving. Whenever I leave the house, I can't without being asked what I'm doing, and half of the time she won't let me leave anyways. My older brother is just an all-around jerk. It seems everything I do have to be criticized by him.

Sometimes, in my own eyes, I feel like I am the only one that has some sense in this world, no one but me and my followers. I am the Jesus of Suburbia, the dumb kid that sits on his computer desk pondering this thing he lives in, the world as he knows it. No one knows of my inner struggles. I am the Jesus of Suburbia. I read music; it speaks to me, telling me to escape the boredom. It tells me that there is more to life than what I am living. The music tells me I am the Jesus of Suburbia, the one that will bring sense upon this forsaken town. I am not the idiot people think I am. They are the idiots, they are the fools. I differ from people's portrayal of me. I do not live their dampened life of nothing, because I know that something lies ahead. That is up to me, the Jesus of Suburbia to find out.

Summer is almost over. I am going to arrive at my new high school in two days. I have no friends there; I guess I'll just try my best to fit in. Oh, I remember, Will is moving too, so I'll be alright for a while if he doesn't annoy the shit out of me! If we don't fit in, it'll be okay, I'm just in this to graduate and get the hell out of here. I hear my parents coming; it's probably something I did… Or didn't do. Until next time,

- Christian

**Chapter 1 – Introducing the American Idiots**

Christian sets his diary down as he is the trampling of feet coming down the hallway. When he sets his diary down, he notices his hand is dirty with graffiti he put on the night before. Art work, as he called it, but his parents were not interested in the filth he put on himself. Something that looked more or less like a heart was sprawled across his hand in red sharpie, trying to imitate the color of blood that he is too weak to actually draw.

Christian sprawls his legs out under his desk as his father opens the door to his bedroom. Rage. In reality, this man wasn't Christian's real dad. Brad was just his step dad that happened to be one of the biggest assholes on the planet. With his hands held behind his head, Christian already sets his stepfather off that he is cocky. "Turn that shit down, Christian, I'm trying to watch T.V. out here and I can hear your music even through these thick walls!" Christian completely forgot he was listening to music, although it was blaring. He only slightly lowered the volume of his punk rock, angering his dad even more. "Christian…"  
"What the hell more do you want, Brad?" back-talked Christian. As soon as that, the mood within the whole house seemed to change. "I just turned it down just like you told me to do!" Christian's stepdad quickly stomps over to his computer desk where Christian's alertness is now heightened.

"Don't you ever swear and yell at me like that again, Christian!" yells Brad as he puts his finger in Christians face. "Now turn that shit down!" Christian stares into his father's eyes that are filled with rage for a few seconds before complying with him. Christian easily gets out of the stare down, without making it seem like he lost it. Christian turns the nob on his speakers down, but not enough to make a recognizable difference. "More!" commands Christian's stepdad. Christian can't stand any more of this shouting that he has had to live with for almost all his life.

"Will you stop shouting?!" hypocritically shouts Christian. Brad looks down with a fake grim look in his face, trying to control himself from yelling anymore.

"Okay, Christian. How about you just turn in your phone now?" demands Brad. Christian looks at Brad, with a disgusted look. How could this old man control him? How could this idiot that knows nothing about teenagers and how he lives control him? Christian has lived with this asshole of a dad for too long without doing anything major. Christian looks at his desk for a second, and notices a soda pop can. Christian was tired of living the life of the oppressed child, he needed an escape.

Realizing Brad is staring into him still, Christian quickly knocks the pop can off of the desk, splashing its contents all over his father. His father does not hesitate with the punishment that is about to be dealt onto Christian. Brad grabs ahold of Christian right then and there by the scruff of collar on his shirt.

"Listen here kid! I'm fed up with your bullshit!" Christian struggles to hold onto his cool as his father's evil eyes stare into him. The rage then slaps Christian right across the face, making it sound like a high five, but it was not a joyous occasion at all. Christian stretched out his muscles in his face with the pain, trying to relieve the soreness. It stung, and Christian doesn't remember the last time he had been hurt that bad. "That was the last straw, now give me your phone, and you're done with everything!"

"I left it at Will's!" responds Christian nervously as he is being held by Brad. Good answer, he thought. Will, was his only friend, and he didn't fully understand Christian either, but they hung out at Will's house the other day. Now he doesn't even have to give away the object that is in his right pocket of his jeans. Christian's stepdad looks down at the ground for a second, shaking his head, and then releases Christian with a firm shake.

"God damn it, I'm soaking wet!" roars the rage of Brad. "You stay in this room for the rest of the night… No… for the rest of the week!" Christian's stepdad then slams the door and stomps out down the hallway.

"Summer's over, dumbass," Christian mouths to himself as he sits on his bed, rubbing his hand across the red mark that his father left, "I have school tomorrow, the fun's all over." Christian finds little pity or remorse for his actions. Does it really matter what he does to his parents? It's not like it's going to affect his life right now. Christian hasn't acted this bad in a very long time, and he feels no regret or pain, besides the red slap mark across his face.

Christian hears another set of footsteps but they aren't coming from the hallway to the living room, they're coming from his brother's room which is connected to his. His brother was a true pain to him, and it seemed everyday there was conflict between the two of them. Christian was tired of living the life of the little brother. He needed an escape.

"What did you just do to make him mad you stupid little shit?" callously questions his brother. Christian doesn't want to show his anger towards his brother so he gets the better of him, so he quickly responds back.

"I threw water at him." Simply replies Christian to Darren. There is no hesitation for Darren to reply.

"You're an idiot, Christian," denounces Darren.

"Did I ask of your opinion, Darren?" Christian calmly asks Darren. "I never invited you into my room to trash talk me."

"Get over yourself, man." Says Darren as he walks out of Christian's filthy room filled with dirty clothes and plates with food on them.

"You get over yourself!" yells Christian. Darren snickers and closes the door. While Christian shakes his head at his brothers attitude, he hears Darren's loud, bassy speaks, and faintly hears the echo of rappers spurting out lyrics of partying, sex, drugs, and violence. What qualities, ethics, and morale's does that type of music even teach? Christian has no clue, and the idea of that type of music frustrates him. Christian shakes his head with even more rage now. He clenches his teeth as his hands clutch his hair on his head. The shit he has been through his whole life comes out now… His parent's divorce… Brad's cruelty, Darren's bullying, and his isolation from the most of society… The anger inside of him swells up. Christian grabs a red permanent marker, the same one he used to draw on his hands, and writes on his walls…

"I don't wanna be the American Idiot, one nation controlled by the media, information age of hysteria, it's calling out to idiot America!"


End file.
